Jasper David Wise. Thank you to all who made suggestions and bribes. Many thanks to those who patiently awaited the announcement. And thanks most of all to Jasper, who waited, nameless, for three days.

Jasper was a name that grew on us as the pregnancy drew to a close. When he was born, we figured that Jasper was the name, but we wanted to take some time to think about it further. Our thinking led to research, which was fascinating.

First, we found information about jasper as a semi-precious stone. It comes in many colors and patterns–there is mottled jasper, red jasper, picture jasper, lasndscape jasper, yellow jasper, etc. Many claim that jaspers have protective powers. They are also good for healing stomach ailments. I’m hoping our little Jasper can heal my stomach, which seems to be growing and growing. Jaspers are associated with Scorpios and Sagitarians. Baby Jasper is a Scorpio with a Sagitarian moon. If you want to know what that means, please contact my wife. (I recently was informed that I’m a Taurus with a Taurus moon. That must be why I think it is all bull.) Jaspers are also credited with warding off fears of the dark, so I no longer need a flashlight. Even if I’m still afraid of the dark, this little boy is the light of our lives.

Another interesting fact about the name Jasper–one that we did not know until yesterday–is that Jasper is the name of one of the Wise Men who sought the Christ child. Melchior and Balthazar were the other two. Our next two boys are already named! I’m not sure if the Wise Man Jasper brought gold, frankincense, or myrrh, but our little Wise man has brought nothing but joy.

We love having him here. Mirabelle loves him the most. She kisses him whenever we let her get near him. We can’t wait to see them grow up playing together. But for now I want nothing more than for those little people to stay just as little as they are. With Jasper’s arrival, we are more aware than ever of how much Mirabelle has grown. I didn’t even see it happening. Until Sunday, Mirabelle was still a baby.

We are loving life as a new family of four. Lindsey and Jasper haven’t even left home–he’s kind of a homebody. We’re spending time together and squeezing in as many family naps as possible.

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At 1:12 in the early morning of 11/11/07 our son was born. As the day approached, we thought he might be born on veteran’s day. What kind of baby enters the world on such a day? We joked that he might be an old soldier from the beaches of Normandy, who would enter the world still wearing his green helmet. These are the kinds of things you speak of to pass the time when awaiting a child.

Lindsey’s labor began around 5pm on Saturday while we were taking a family nap. She labored beautifully throughout the night–I’m absolutley amazed by her. She never swore at me or shed a single tear. She didn’t breathe funny like they do on tv. She just dealt with it and focused on her son. Lindsey even made jokes during the transition phase. Yelena (the midwife) and I could not contain our laughter. I can’t say enough about how amazing Lindsey is.

When our little boy finally emerged, we saw that Lindsey’s waters had not broken–he still had the amniotic sac around his head. This is quite rare and some say that it makes the baby quite special. Some believe he will never drown, others claim he is destined for greatness, and still others say he will travel forever and never tire. Lindsey really likes that last one. I think all three are pretty good. In latin the caul is “Caput galeatum”, literally, “head helmet.” Ah yes, he was wearing a helmet after all, our little veteran traveler.

His ears are also of interest: we’ve never seen any shaped like them. All day I’ve been trying to think of how to describe them, but words are failing me. At one point I said to Lindsey, “They look like they have a dancer in them, you know, that one from the Dave Matthews Band stickers.” She had no idea what I meant, so I don’t expect that you will. Check out the picture for a much more accurate description.

Our little guy has slept peacefully all day except for a couple feeding interuptions and a bumbling experience with his father changing a diaper. Has it been so long since we’ve had a newborn?

Mirabelle loves him. She calls him Mama, which she calls all babies. She likes to poke at him and jump on him. When we changed his hat tonight to a little hat with a lion on the forehead, Mirabelle pointed right to it and said, Raaar. So maybe we’ll name him Mama and maybe we’ll name him Raaar. We really haven’t figured it out yet. We’ll need to get to know him.

He was seven pounds three ounces at birth. His length is 20 inches. His head is 14 inches around. His hair is dark and curly. His toes are incredibly long and are equal to half the length of his foot. His sneezes are small and cute. His parents are doting and head-over-heels for him.

Welcome little one. We’ll get you named. We love you. Thank you to everyone for all your love and support. We’ve felt your prayers and appreciate your kind thoughts and words.

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The producer of “BirthCam: the live-webcam-streaming-(but not screaming)-birth-experience” regrets to inform you that BirthCam will not be broadcast as promised. I’ve run into some red tape here on the home front. The powers that be have explained to me that there are certain regulations governing the broadcasting of our births. I’m required to obtain something called the “permission” of the birthing mother. My staff is working on obtaining said permission, but negotiations are at a stand still.

I can promise that this site will carry exclusive photographs of the new baby boy at our nearest convenience following the birth. Thank you all for your continued support.

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First off: the baby’s name is not Emerson. His fetal name is Emerson. That is because Ralph Waldo Emerson is one of my favorite essayists. “Who has a favorite essayist?” you might be asking yourself. Well, I do. Chances are good that this baby, when he comes out, will not look like an Emerson (or a Ralph or a Waldo), and will need to be named something else. Mirabelle certainly did not look like a Wordsworth, so we had to go back to the drawing board. But for now this baby is Emerson and this blog is addressed to him.

Son, I’ve had a change of heart. You may have heard me recently, urging you to come out and join us. Yes, that was my voice last night saying, “C’mon, you’re seven days late already. Let’s go. You’re dad can’t take it anymore.” I take it all back. I’m amazed with how well your mom carries you. She doesn’t complain. She smiles and laughs and is delightful to be around. She seems to enjoy your company and is growing used to your feet being in her ribs. If I’ve come off as impatient with you, please allow me to start over. Let’s look at this differently.

Your quarters are cramped within your mother, but she is steadily growing with you, and you don’t seem to mind being where you are, so I think we’ve got a good thing going. If you can just stay in there for another nine months or so, you’ll be able to roll over, start crawling, start eating solid foods, and even get some of your teeth in. We’ll save money on diapers (money I’ll put into your college/travel fund) and we’ll help save the environment too. If you can just hold on for another year, then you’ll already know how to walk. Think of it–no bumping into corners, or scraping your knees.

If you can stay until you’re three, we’ll all miss your terrible twos, which would help keep fewer gray hairs on my head. When you don’t get your way, you could throw tantrums in the womb, which I’ve found provides a great sound barrier.

Granted, your mother’s belly will need to grow to support your continued growth. I haven’t discussed this plan with her, so please don’t mention it to her. I’m thinking I could construct a wheel barrow of sorts that could help her support your weight. I could even make one that includes a stroller for Mirabelle.

We’ll touch base, Emerson after the first three years to see how you are enjoying yourself. If all is well, I don’t see why we couldn’t continue. Lindsey could take you to kindergarten and then to the rest of school. You wouldn’t have to deal with mean kids making fun of you–you’d be safe and secure within your mother’s enlarged abdomen, which would ride in the comfort of a wheel barrow.

Your teen years would be much easier. All snyde remarks and talking back could directed at the placenta. There would be no sneaking out. We’d still let you go on dates, but your mother would chaperone. Learning to drive might pose some problems, but we’ve got 16 years to figure that out.

On your 18th birthday, you could join the world and we could see if you look like an Emerson. By then, you could name yourself, and you could legally change whatever name we thought to give you. We’d show you a few things, like how to tie your shoes and how to use a microwave and you’ll be on your way.

The choice, my son, is yours. I only want what is best for you and your mother, and like I said, I haven’t discussed this with her. She looks beautiful at 41 weeks pregnant–I’m sure she’d look beautiful at 18 years pregnant. But don’t tell I mentioned this.

Emerson, this is all said tongue-in-cheek, of course. If you don’t know what a tongue or a cheek is, please ask your sister, when you meet her (very soon).

We love you and look forward to your arrival–whenever you choose that to be.

Love,
Dad

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I’d like to take this opportunity to dispel a commonly held notion that my wife is huge. She is, indeed, six days beyond her due date, but, if you ask me, she doesn’t look a day beyond 40 weeks. I am posting recent photos as proof. She is beautiful and I will fight anyone who disagrees.

Speaking of fighting, I’m about ready to fight this little kickboxer inside of Lindsey. He kicks, he punches, he stretches, he makes himself quite cozy; he does everything but show his face. He is six days late for our appointment. I’m not always punctual myself; I admit I’ve returned movies six days late, I’ve returned books to the library six days late, I’ve even paid a bill or two six days late, but I can’t imagine having the nerve to be born six days late. I hope he realizes that he is being charged late fees, which will, along with our ice cream expenses, be subtracted from his future allowance.

Meanwhile, Mirabelle, who was three days late or early (depending on which due date one chose to believe), is a sweet little treasure who grows larger and smarter each day. She loves to smash her face into Lindsey’s belly, kissing it, zerbeting it, and covering it with slobber. She definitely loves her brother. We love him too. And we’ll continue to wait for him.

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Hi there,

Just a note to let friends and family know that we’re still waiting. Patiently, I might add. The official due date for the little wise guy was November 1st. Seeing as how today is November 4th I’ve decided that this baby is bound to be pretty laid back and will want to do things in his own time. He doesn’t seem to have a calendar in the womb!

Mirabelle had a fun Halloween and dressed up as an owl. Her costume was so cute and all you have to do is ask her what an owl says and she will hoot. She got to go to the Lemos Farms pumpkin patch at Half Moon Bay and she loved it! She chased around the chickens and ducks, went on a train ride, was a little scared of the crazy goats and played with the pumpkins. She insisted that they were balls, regardless of my telling her they were pumpkins. Until recently she insisted that apples were balls but now she has the sign for apples down and has agreed that there is a difference between apples and balls.

Our first disagreement (probably not our last) was in Trader Joes a couple of weeks ago. She was playing in the gym with a bunch of little balls in a ball pit when I picked her up and we went over to get some groceries. I picked up a bag of mini red apples and she shouted out BALL! I told her that they were apples and made the sign. She said, “No. Ball.” I said, “No, apple.” Again she said, “No. Ball.” I said apple, made the sign for apple and took a big bite out of it. She got a big grin, reached out her hands and asked for more. It was only a few days later that I pulled an apple out of the diaper bag and she smiled and made the sign for apple for her first time. Yes, I was very proud.

I hope that y’all enjoy the pictures. I promise that there will be some more posted once this little babe arrives. Hopefully it will be sooner than later.

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